In fact, speaking purely of the problems within the circle, Hollywood was not much better than the Chinese entertainment industry.
Just as films have never been determined solely by the films themselves, the state of the Chinese entertainment and film industry was not something decided by the industry alone.
Most of the time, things were simply ignored. And when ignored, all sorts of problems would grow—like this time.
As a field that naturally lives under the spotlight, any scandal here instantly causes a stir, triggering systemic social criticism.
Take for example PC, drug use, or tax evasion—are such problems absent in other industries? Of course they exist, but no one pays attention.
When it comes to attention, who is watched more closely than stars and directors living under constant spotlight, adored by countless fans?
Compared with that, things like the unspoken rule of sleeping with actresses had basically become an open secret, tacitly accepted by the public.
And this impostor-trainee incident—if it hadn't involved foreign friends, it probably would have been swept aside.
But now things were different. Not only had the executives of Disney and Warner jointly submitted a letter of protest to the Los Angeles consulate, even the ambassador across the ocean urgently met with the leaders of the diplomatic office to lodge a stern protest.
Don't be fooled by the Washington lords who spend all day bickering and shirking real work—for this matter, they were in full agreement.
Hollywood's major companies also declared support. Gilbert was the face of Hollywood; no matter how much internal fighting there was, that was family business.
Slapping Gilbert in the face was equivalent to slapping all of Hollywood.
Not only Hollywood—this matter could not be hidden. The next day, The Los Angeles Times, ABC, CNN, and other outlets all reported it.
Even The Washington Post, which had always disliked Gilbert, supported him this time, insisting that lost dignity had to be regained.
On the internet, regardless of whether they supported Gilbert or not, North American netizens exploded.
They even launched petitions, demanding Washington question the other side in Beijing.
Why? Because our great Director, Director Gilbert, had welcomed you to the great Hollywood crew in a spirit of friendship between two Countries and you dared pull this stunt?
The situation spiraled out of control. Gilbert himself had not expected Washington to intervene.
But thinking on it, it made sense. This was North America, the ever-arrogant North America, made even more sensitive after the September 11 attacks and the Iraq War.
With North American media and online chatter fermenting, the impostor list scandal quickly spread across the entire Western world.
And in today's world, the Western world essentially equaled the world. Britain, France, even neighboring South Korea—all their media were following the story.
All at once, the impostor-trainee affair became a global hot topic.
Many people had thought it would not be serious, yet it turned into a massive public-opinion event, catching everyone off guard.
With the consulate receiving the protest letters, and the ambassador issuing a formal diplomatic note, the matter had blown up.
Old Tian and the others were still in meetings, discussing how to resolve the issue, when the top already dispatched a joint investigation team to probe the causes.
Since it was now an international incident, with global media hype, domestic southern-based outlets also would not stay quiet.
Though orders quickly came down to block coverage—outside of official media channels, all other outlets were forbidden to report or discuss it—so domestically the scandal's heat was not as high as abroad.
But mishandling this would mean a loss of face internationally, a potentially fatal blow for a China eager to integrate into the world.
As in street life, face was everything.
One couldn't blame Gilbert, after all—your people were in the wrong first, and he held the moral ground.
As the old saying went, "With reason, one may travel the world; without reason, not a step." While often untrue, since reason does not always prevail, in this international incident, with fault on our side, we had no way to protect our own.
Worse still, Disney, Warner, and the Washington lords hyped it up so loudly worldwide that it was impossible to suppress.
People looked and said: so you, who shout about world peace and friendship, are liars without integrity. Who would dare work with you again?
So now, unless heavy punishment was delivered to satisfy the international community, the hats about to be placed would be unbearable.
During the investigation, endless gifts and pleas were sent, but no one involved dared touch anything—they kept their mouths shut.
The top had spoken: deal with it seriously, no leniency, everyone involved must be punished.
The foreigners, holding reason, could not be touched. But these pests of ours—punishing them was easy.
Soon the results came out: except for Guo Fan and the other four, the remaining twenty-four had to publicly apologize to the crew, then were deported.
Gilbert also gave an interview to CNN, summarizing the matter:
"I know every circle has its so-called unspoken rules. Even Hollywood is the same. I just never thought such a thing would happen in my crew."
As producer of The Adventures of Jackie Chan, he was right to call it his crew.
"I often tell my Chinese friends a saying from their great philosopher Confucius: 'When three walk together, there must be one I can learn from.' We should communicate and learn from each other's strengths.
But if my Chinese friends' attitude toward learning is this poor, then I think we have no need to continue learning from one another.
Fortunately, among twenty-nine people there were five who held true. Though they couldn't stop what happened, at least they stayed clean, not participating. That is some comfort."
Gilbert's words came from the heart. Afterwards, the consul himself went to Melon Manor to visit Gilbert, delivering a letter of apology.
"Those impostor trainees have been deported. Once again, we offer you our sincere apologies." Consul He Qingliu was drenched in sweat, bowing, flattering, smiling until his face cramped.
He loathed the so-called people in the domestic film and cultural circles. For more than a week, his days had been like sitting on needles, like a thorn in his back, like a bone stuck in his throat.
In his eyes, all those people deserved to be fed to the fish.
Although the matter had little to do with him directly, who could guarantee he would not be implicated?
Gilbert did not care what He Qingliu thought. The matter had been unfolding for days, and his anger had cooled somewhat. He simply asked:
"Mr. He, how do you plan to handle these people?"
"Once back home, they will face serious criticism. As for specific handling, that depends on what the authorities decide."
"Just serious criticism? Your hearts are certainly big enough. In my opinion, these people are not cut out to make films at all. I know how you Chinese think.
All you want is to muddle along, get a bit of so-called gold-plating overseas, then go back and, leaning on family backgrounds, continue abusing power, becoming so-called overlords of the entertainment circle.
Then life carries on—still sleeping with beautiful starlets, while those with real talent and ability remain suppressed.
Is this the outcome you want? Is your film industry truly like this?"
He Qingliu's face flushed red. What Gilbert said was true, but having it laid out so bluntly still left him humiliated.
But he couldn't blame Gilbert for speaking plainly, could he?
No, the blame lay with those bastards. Why swap names? Of all times to go abroad for gold-plating, why pick this one?
And now everyone was in trouble—what to do?
He could only keep bowing, apologizing, and promising strict handling.
Later, the ambassador in Washington personally called Gilbert, assuring him that as soon as results were finalized, Gilbert would be informed immediately.
The malicious diplomatic incident triggered by the impostor trainees had infuriated the other side, and caused a great loss of face internationally.
For Chinese people, face had always been paramount. Shameless people and affairs were rare. This time, however, face had been lost completely.
Thus, once the impostors were returned, they were immediately isolated and placed under soft detention. Investigators questioned them separately.
They were asked everything: how they had gone through the back door, whose back door it was, what details were traded, how the trainee list was switched, and so on.
The trainees had thought it was just a simple trip to gild their résumés. Who could have foreseen such a development?
They had already panicked in Los Angeles, their hotels surrounded by furious fans protesting. Luckily, the city government did not want any actual harm to befall foreign guests and arranged ample police protection.
They had assumed that returning home would mean safety. After all, didn't each of them have connections? At worst, a few favors here and there.
But back home they discovered it was not so. Confined in designated hotel rooms, they were forbidden from leaving, from seeing family, from contacting the outside world.
No access to news, papers, or television. Apart from eating and sleeping, their days were nothing but interrogations—torment that lasted two full weeks.
Only when the investigation report was completed were their families finally permitted to visit.
Zhang Chuan's days of questioning were at last over, and his family was allowed to see him.
His mother, seeing her son gaunt and thin, burst into tears: "My child, what have they done to you?"
Zhang Chuan, still somewhat filial, hurried to console her: "It's nothing, Mom. I just haven't been sleeping well. A couple days of rest and I'll be fine."
Glancing around, he saw only his mother and elder brother. His father was absent. Curious, he asked: "Where's Dad?"
"Your dad…" His mother wiped her eyes, choking back sobs: "Your dad was found guilty of violations. They arrested him."
"What?" Zhang Chuan was dumbfounded. He turned to his brother: "Is this true?"
His brother nodded silently, adding: "In the half-month you were locked up, many have been arrested. One after another."
Zhang Chuan felt the sky collapsing. He muttered over and over: "How could this be? How? We're rich. Grandpa's a retired cadre. Didn't he pull some strings?"
Then he noticed his brother's limp. Alarmed, he asked: "Brother, your leg?"
"It's nothing," his brother said, face now weathered and heavy with age, utterly different from his former arrogant playboy self. "The old man beat me. It'll heal."
The three of them wept together. They could not understand—hadn't they just done what they always did? Why such punishment now?
They would never grasp it—that what they considered "normal" had never truly been normal.
The entertainment world, the film industry, the cultural circles—after the impostor trainees returned, everything descended into chaos. Panic spread everywhere.
Many so-called masters suffered misfortune; scandals from the past were unearthed. Those guilty faced the law.
The leadership cut through like plowing and sweeping a courtyard, clearing out the so-called small circles, leaving only wreckage behind.
One leader declared: "I don't care about any Beijing circle, Shanghai circle, or Northwest circle. From today on, I recognize only one identity—Chinese filmmakers."
First to fall were the notorious Beijing scions.
These scions were dragged back by their families, soundly thrashed. Some with problems were even handed over to the police—righteous families cutting ties.
There was no choice. Without such righteousness, the entire family could be destroyed later.
Chen the Pigeon was stunned. He and his wife, Chen Hong, had been at a film festival abroad when news of the impostor list broke. They were humiliated, mocked by filmmakers from other nations.
That humiliation was nothing compared to what awaited back home. The Beijing circle they had so eagerly courted was already ashes, only a handful of stragglers left.
Chen Hong too was dazed. She often played the madam, introducing starlets to scions.
But now the scions were gone. Without them, her little brothel-like network could not function. What to do?
The "National Teacher" also received punishment. He had been involved in such shady business more than once, but since his offenses were relatively light, a fine sufficed.
Still, the fine was no small sum.
As for the impostors' families, the investigation team tore through them like wolves, uncovering every tiny fault, tallying up every past wrong.
In short, under top-level scrutiny and the watchful eyes of the international community, the so-called Chinese entertainment industry underwent a massive purge.
During this time, everyone lived in fear. No one dared engage in unspoken rules, terrified that the next knock would be on their own door.
The long-term consequences of this cultural tsunami remained unknown, but one thing was clear: for the near future, the industry would be clean.
As for permanent cleanliness? Impossible. Better to expect India to send astronauts to the moon.
Once results were finalized, a selective press conference was held to announce them, and the information was also conveyed to Gilbert.
Though many remained dissatisfied, since the results were out, the matter gradually cooled.
From early August until mid-September, global media clamored nonstop for over a month, and the public feasted on gossip the whole time.
In the end, the handling salvaged some face for the East, though bad deeds require countless good ones to repair.
By the time the report reached Gilbert, he had already gathered Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks, and Charlize Theron for a meeting.
They were preparing to start making counterfeit money—no, to shoot a film.
....
Hi For access to additional chapters of
Director in Hollywood (40 chpaters)
Made In Hollywood (60 Chapters)
Pokemon:Bounty Hunter(30 Chapters)
Douluo Dalu: Reincarnated as Yan(40 Chapters)
Hollywood:From Razzie to Legend(40 Chapters)
The Great Ruler (30 Chapters)
Join pateron.com/Translaterappu